


Like Top Gun, only Hotter

by Lizardbeth



Series: Nellis 'Verse [3]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Earth, F/M, Nellis-verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-03
Updated: 2010-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of shorter pieces, mostly written for porn battles, that belong to my Nellis 'Verse, an Earth AU where Kara and Sam are both pilots at Nellis Air Force Base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam's plane crashes, Kara copes in her own way.

Kara was chopping vegetables as if they'd offended her. Onions- _thwack!_ Peppers- _whack!_ She _knew_ Sam's flying was dangerous - there was a reason Raptors hadn't been approved for combat yet, after all. They were temperamental birds. But they were not supposed to blow a fuel line at Mach 2. Their pilots weren't supposed to say things like "Kara, I love you, baby," on their way into the deck, while she was listening. They weren't supposed to _land_ in the middle of fucking nowhere on nothing but fumes.

Sam was on his way home after debrief, and she was going to be calm. She wasn't going to hit him, too much, for scaring her with stupid Starbuck-like stunts. She was going to cook a nice dinner and open good beer to celebrate his not being a smear across the desert.

The water was hot, and she'd started to saute onions and peppers when a car door slammed out front. She turned the skillet down and pulled out the beer, popping the tops. She lowered the neck of her tanktop and brought the two beers into the front hall, as he came in.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "Something smells good. That for me?" He prompted when she found she couldn't move. She nodded and he came closer to take it, and he looked down into her eyes. "You okay?" His free hand tucked her hair behind her ear, fingers on her cheek.

She might never have felt his touch again. This morning's kiss before dawn might have been the last. She grabbed his hand and yanked him down, needing his mouth on hers again. He fumbled to put the bottle on the side table, to frame her face, fingers in her hair and lips on hers. She pushed into him, clutching his shoulders, tongue in his mouth. He tasted of desert sand and sweat. He tasted of being alive.

He pulled back trying to slow her. "Kara, it's okay. Nothing happened."

"Shut up," she ordered, bottle clinking next to his so she could yank his t-shirt off. "I thought --" She couldn't say what she'd thought, and moved to his pants. BDUs fell to the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hands stroking up the warm skin of his back.

"I know what you thought," he murmured into her neck, dropping his hands to her waist and hips to push down her shorts. "It was close."

"You should've punched out, moron." She hit him with her fists once, as he bent to kiss her collarbones and the hollow of her throat.

"Crash a billion dollar plane? I'd never pay it off," he joked, lifting off her shirt to find her breasts eager for his touch. His thumbs stroked the swell underneath, while his fingers brushed the tips, while she shut him up with her mouth on his again. Her leg curled around his hip, pressing into his thigh, thin cloth of her panties the only thing between them and it was too wet to be much of a barrier to feeling anything.

Then his hand was there too, and her fingers were curled around the waistband of his shorts, forgotten what she was going to do as he stroked her into a shuddering panting ball of want. Then she was ripping down his shorts, and he slipped his hands around the back of her thighs like he was going to carry her, but thought better of it. He pulled her into the living room to the rug. She crawled up his body until she could ease herself down on his length.

"Kara..." Her name was soft on his lips like a prayer.

"Sam," she braced herself on his chest and bit her lip before forcing the words out. He looked up at her, eyes half-lidded with desire, as they found their rhythm. "Sam, you better - you better - next time..."

But the feel of him deep inside was too much, and she tightened up with a heaving gasp. His hands grabbed her hips to hold her still, as he finished inside her, forcing aftershocks all through her body. When he peeled his fingers from her, she let herself fall forward onto his chest, dog tags entangling and hot.

He smoothed her hair. "It's not a safe thing we do, baby," he murmured. "I can't promise to always come home."

She whispered into his chest, "You didn't give me a chance to say I loved you back."

"But I know." His hand slipped down the tattoo on her arm. "This means forever. This life and the other side, too." She roused to kiss the tip of his arm, then put her head down to listen to his heart.

Then he sniffed. "Kara? You're hot, but is something burning?"

"Damn it!"

She streaked to the kitchen to save dinner. They ended up with jar sauce on their pasta, and a lingering stench of burned onions. But she'd take a cooking disaster over the disaster that might have been.

* * *

Next chapter is _Officer and Gentleman_: Kara likes a man in uniform. And discipline.


	2. Officer and Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara likes a man in uniform. And discipline.

There was no doubt that Kara loved men in uniform. Well, no, that was a lie, she loved a man in uniform. She loved the blue of Sam's service dress uniform, how it made his eyes look practically indigo. But she loved most stripping it off him. Today had been a formal review for General Roslin from CENTCOM so he was in full kit, which luckily Nellis didn't require most days, because of the heat.

First the jacket with his ribbons and badges, which she carefully put over the back of the chair. When she turned back, he had started to loosen his tie himself, and she smacked his hand away. "My job. Quit it."

"Yes, ma'am." He schooled his expression while he waited, but she could see the smile glimmering. She worked the tie off and laid it over his jacket. He toed himself out of his shoes and socks, to taunt her, and she glared at him.

"Disobedience, Airman?"

"Saving you stinky toes, ma'am," he replied, straight-faced.

She couldn't help a snicker, then glared at him again. "I think there'll have to be consequences for that, Captain Anders."

"For stinky toes? Or disobedience?" he asked, with perfect wide-eyed confusion and laughing eyes.

She got right into his face, pulling him by the belt. "For being a smartass. Stand still."

She opened his pants and unbuttoned his shirt, then threw them both toward the table. Then smirking, she pulled his boxer shorts down his thighs and off, making sure her hand brushed his inner thighs and across his cock, teasing him. That left him in his dogtags and a tattoo on his arm that matched hers.

Lord, he could still make her mouth go dry, looking at him standing there. How the hell had she ever deserved him, she didn't know, but she wasn't giving him up now.

"Come on, airman, let's show you your punishment detail." She grabbed his tags and pulled him down the short hall to their bedroom.

"This doesn't look so bad," he said. He should've known better by now.

She smiled sweetly and ordered, "Kneel and put your hands behind your head."

His eyes flared with curious interest, and he did it without complaint. Then he watched, and she watched him watching, as she slowly stripped her own clothes -- shirt and shorts first, then bra. She sat on the bed before him and cupped her breasts, circling with her finger until her nipples started to harden and she could pinch them into that first flare that echoed between her legs.

"I could, uh, help you with that," he offered hoarsely. She grinned at him.

"No, your punishment is to watch. Hm, these panties are so wet I might as well not wear them." Then she wriggled out of them, letting them drop to the floor in front of him. Then on the edge of the bed, she spread her legs and very slowly slid her hand down her belly, through her hair, across her clit, shuddering, and then between her lips, opening herself completely to his gaze. She stroked leisurely - it was almost too slow, except she was watching his face and his desire fed hers. He barely blinked at her show, and he kept licking his lips. His erection grew high and flushed without anything touching it, as she rubbed faster, fingers slick on her slippery skin. When she slid two fingers into herself, she heard his breath catch, and she shuddered on a small orgasm just from the sound alone.

Then she lay back, shut her eyes, and forgot she had an audience, rubbing at her clit with wet sounds while she worked her nipples with her other hand. She was panting now, sweat beading on her from the heat, hips flexing, when climax hit her like a wave.

She was still trying to catch her breath, when she felt warm, large hands fall on her thighs and her eyes flew open. Sam waited for her to lift her hand out of the way, and nudged his cock into position. "You can punish me for this later," he whispered smugly and thrust into her.

Curling her feet around him, she pulled him deeper, filling her. So good. She tightened on him, making him gasp, and gripped his shoulders. "Much later," she told him, breathlessly. "Now move your ass, airman."

He bent down to kiss her, murmuring against her mouth, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Chapter Three: _First Holiday_


	3. First Holiday

"We don't need a tree."

"Of course we need a tree with ornaments and lights," Sam insisted, looking at her as if she'd gone crazy. "I've always had a tree, when I could."

Kara thought back to her mother's place and the fake tree that had stood in the front room but never had presents. The ornaments had all been gold, and the lights had been white, and it had sparkled with cold perfection through the front window. She'd hated that tree and all the miserable holidays it represented.

"I don't celebrate Christmas," she said brusquely and tried to turn, but he caught her shoulder.

"Kara--"

"Christmas sucks," she muttered. "It's all commercial and stupid and fake."

He hesitated, thinking, then smiled. "Christmas has one tradition you can't possibly object to."

"What's that?" she asked.

He grinned. "Mistletoe." He waved something green in front of her face and then held it up high, while he kissed her. She arched into him, eager to stop talking about it.

She caught sight of the mistletoe as he lowered his hand to her shoulder, and she burst into laughter, pulling back a little ways. "Sam! That's parsley!"

He shrugged and grinned, unrepentant. "Yeah, so? It got me a kiss, didn't it?" He held up the green sprig and leaned forward.

"You're the most ridiculous-- " But she didn't finish, because she was kissing him again and thinking of starting their own holiday traditions.


End file.
